Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Your father wouldn’t want you cutting ties with the Blaze, Twinkle Toes, you know that,” Skull says softly, delivering the fucking truth gently but with the force of a sledgehammer.
He’s right. Skull’s absolutely right. My father loved the club. He hung out there often. I know something else, though, that Skull doesn’t.
“He would hate it. If he knew what that asshole said and did, though, he would support me,” I grumble out my truth.
“He’s come here to apologize,” King points out.
“Some things you can’t take back and you can’t apologize for and make better. It’s just there and can’t be erased,” I murmur.
“Beau …”
That sad almost guttural use of my name comes from Torch and damn it all, I forgot. I forgot to hide behind my walls of indifference. I forgot to be a bitch. I push all thoughts away. I shake my head no at Torch and make sure my barriers are back in place. Once I’m sure I’ve achieved that, I turn my attention to King, avoiding looking at Torch or Skull—trying desperately to get my shit together.
“I’m booked solid for the next two months with the Kings of Anarchy.”
“Kings of Anarchy?” Skull repeats. “Which chapter?”
“Tennessee.”
“I thought they disbanded,” King mutters.
“Came close. Their new president, Grifter, came in and took over. He seems to be doing good things with the club.”
“You like him?”
“I don’t do work for people I don’t—which is part of our issue,” I respond.
“What do you need from us?” I look at the three men in front of me. “I want us to get past this. You’ve always been tight with the club. I want to make sure that continues,” he adds—and I really wish he hadn’t.
“King—”
“Seriously, Beau. I need this to work out. There’s a lot riding on it. I’ve checked around. You’re the best. Some may come close to you, but they are not you. Still, I could ship it out to Prime. He does good work. His name is recognizable and it’s solid. We’d survive.”
“Why don’t you do that, then?” I ask, recognizing the name. I know Prime. He’s an asshole to me. He doesn’t like competition—especially if that competition has surpassed him. So, I don’t like him because he enjoys putting my work down. Still, King is right. Prime would be their next best option. That leaves me wondering why he’s bothering with me at all.
“Truthfully?” King questions.
“I’m a straight shooter. I will always tell you like it is. I respect men who do the same.”
King nods. “There are two reasons. The first is the overhead it would cost us in shipping for transporting projects to Vegas. The amount would cut into our rebuilding. Every bit we can save means a hell of a lot.”
“Okay,” I answer, knowing that what he is saying is true. Still, with Prime’s name on the project, they would make a profit either way, despite shipping costs.
“The biggest reason though, is that I’ve met with Prime twice. The first time, I didn’t like him, because he felt the need to try and prove his dick was the biggest in the room.”
I roll my lips to contain the smile and laugh that threatens to escape. That’s definitely Prime. He’s an ass—apparently even to prospective clients. If he wasn’t great at painting, I’d be surprised he was still in business.
“I can’t disagree with that.”
“I bet,” King responds with his mouth twitching.
“What’s that mean?”
“When he found out that you were the last shop that we worked with, he let it be known that with him we would find the work was better and not made with shoddy materials.”
“That fucking asshole,” I grumble.
King laughs. “That was my reaction.”
“It was?” I ask, more than a little surprised. I mean, he didn’t know me or Prime that well. I would have understood if King believed his snide remark about me—especially since I cut the club off the way I have.
“Yeah, though to be fair I also didn’t like the way his eyes kept moving to my woman’s tits. So, I may have thought that when he tried to make you look bad, but my fist busting his nose had more to do with him eyeballing my woman,” King replies.
My mouth falls open in shock and then I laugh. I do it in a way that I haven’t since … since my night with Hunter. It felt great. It also made me realize that I wouldn’t mind working with King. “I’ll pay you if you have pictures of that,” I mutter.
“Sorry, Gabby was too busy making sure I didn’t kill him to take snapshots.”
“That’s a shame,” I mourn, wishing he did.
King laughs and it makes his eyes twinkle. Yeah, Gabby definitely traded up. My gaze moves to Skull and Torch who are smirking, obviously already aware of King’s run in with Prime. That’s when it hits me. I’ve missed these two just as much—probably more—than they’ve missed me.